


To Have, To Hold

by ackermom



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ...Technically, Canon Compliant, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackermom/pseuds/ackermom
Summary: Sunrise is Reiner's favorite time of day. Before the world comes alive again, there are these tender moments: quiet kisses and whispers under the covers. The bed is too small for the pair of them, but somehow, they make it work.





	To Have, To Hold

**Author's Note:**

> you'll be the one  
> make me hurt, make me come  
> make me feel like i'm real  
> and [alive](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tdc2AGsZF4s)

When Reiner wakes, it is just like every other morning.

The first orange streaks of sunlight spill through the window slats, stretching in lazy shapes across the strewn sheets of the bed. The air quivers with a chill, but there is a warmth beside him. He shifts, yawning as he comes to, and he smiles to himself when he sees Bertholdt nestled beside him, still sleeping. He feathers his fingers down Bertholdt's arm, tickling bare skin in the sunrise. Bertholdt stirs for a moment, waking, before he slowly opens his eyes. In his sleep, one of his hands tangled itself into fabric of Reiner's shirt, and though his grip loosens as he stretches and wakes, he does not let go.

Bertholdt is still yawning when Reiner leans in to kiss his forehead.

"G'morning," he mutters at the soft touch. His eyes flutter shut again. Reiner lies still, afraid of rousing him, afraid of the soft smile that plays naturally across his lips, of the warm sunbeams shimmering in his dark hair. He holds his breath as Bertholdt burrows into the pillow, his breath coming softly, slowly. 

Then Bertholdt looks up, blinking into the sunlight, and mutters with a smile, "Gotcha."

"I knew it," Reiner breathes. He sighs because he always falls for it, and he leans in to kiss the corner of Bertholdt's lips. "I knew you weren't really asleep."

"Mm-hmm. You knew yesterday, too."

He stretches out one lazy arm, reaching for Reiner as he holds back another yawn, his face scrunching with the effort. Reiner shuffles to face him properly, propped up on one elbow. He catches Bertholdt's hand in his grasp, their fingers intertwining, and he shuffles their bodies closer together, the sheets shifting around them as they move. Bertholdt hums through a small, tired smile; his gaze lands fondly on Reiner's face, inches away as he looks up, and Reiner can't help but give in to that sweet look. He always gives in. He lets Bertholdt's hand fall out of his grasp and clutch at his back as he trails his thumb up Bertholdt's jaw.

Reiner kisses his forehead first. He leans down, the sheets rustling, and places his lips on Bertholdt's warm skin as his hand clutches softly at the curve of Bertholdt's jaw. Bertholdt murmurs under his touch; his fingers trail in slow circles across Reiner's back. Reiner kisses him again- his scalp, his temple, the arch of his cheekbone- until Bertholdt is humming with laughter, turned halfway onto his back as Reiner explores him. 

Sunrise is Reiner's favorite time of day. Before the world comes alive again, there are these tender moments: quiet kisses and whispers under the covers. The bed is too small for the pair of them, but somehow, they make it work. Bertholdt curls into his touch as Reiner bends to press their lips together. He settles his hand on the knee that Bertholdt slips over his thighs, bringing their bodies together. The sunlight continues to spill inside. It casts a glow over the grey room, the bare walls and floors turned yellow, orange, golden in the rising light. One of the windows is cracked, and the curtains sway gently when a breeze dances into the room. The soft wind touches Reiner's skin as Bertholdt kisses him back, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Sunbeams paint shining lines over the door on the far side of the room, where Reiner's coat hangs, and in his head, Reiner begs for the morning to last forever.

Bertholdt indulges one last kiss before he pulls away, his hand sliding down Reiner's shoulder. "We can't stay in bed forever."

Reiner grasps the fingers that Bertholdt brushes over his heart, and he squeezes them. "Just a little longer."

"You're going to be late," Bertholdt mutters, smiling. Reiner lies down to face him again, the pillow creasing beneath his head. "Don't you hear the reveille?"

"I don't hear anything but you," Reiner whispers. He brings Bertholdt's hand to his lips and kisses it, earning another smile. "Keep talking to me."

Bertholdt reaches up, loosing his fingers from Reiner's grasp, and strokes along Reiner's jaw, his eyes glowing with warmth as a beam of pink sunlight falls across his face. Reiner follows the touch with his own hand, their fingers moving in rhythm. Beneath the sheets, their knees press together. Bertholdt sighs, and when he moves his head on the pillow, the sunlight falls over his neck, casting a warm shadow on his collarbone that Reiner reaches out to touch. Bertholdt trails his hand down to Reiner's chin.

"You love to hear me talk," he murmurs.

"I love the sound of your voice."

"Mm-hmm. What else do you love about me?"

"Everything," Reiner whispers. He sets his hand on Bertholdt's chest. "You know that."

Bertholdt's nose wrinkles as he smiles, holding back a laugh. "I know that. But I want you to tell me." 

"How could I ever list everything?" Reiner whispers. "How could there ever be an end?"

Warmth embraces his face as Bertholdt cups his cheek. "Just try."

Reiner reaches up to brush his hand through Bertholdt's hair. He pushes a dark lock back from his forehead and lets his fingers trail further, combing across Bertholdt's scalp as he takes soft breaths, the warm sunlight filling their room.

"I love the way you look in the mornings," he whispers. "When you're still half-asleep and all you can think to do is smile at me. I love the way you look at night, when your eyes are full of stars and you curl up around me. I love the weight of your body when you fall asleep on my shoulder." 

Bertholdt leans in to kiss him, then whispers on his lips, "What else?"

"I love your hair," Reiner says, his hand brushing over Bertholdt's ear. "How soft it always is, and how you always let me mess it up."

"Only you."

"I love your eyes," he murmurs. He leans forward and presses a kiss to the tip of Bertholdt's nose. "Your nose, your lips."

"Now you're just listing things."

"But they're all true," Reiner whispers, his hand trailing down to brush along Bertholdt's jaw. Bertholdt kisses him again, their bodies arching together, and Bertholdt hums against his lips, his hand drawing imaginary lines down Reiner's neck.

He pulls back from Reiner's kips, but he does not let go. He presses their foreheads together, his eyes closing, and he whispers, "What do you love the most about me?"

Reiner does not close his eyes.

"You're always there for me," he murmurs. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Beneath the sunrise, Bertholdt beams. He pushes himself up onto his elbows and cups his hands around Reiner's face, thumbs brushing gently along his cheekbones. His lips are still warm when he bends to kiss Reiner, leaning over him, and Reiner grasps at his shoulder, fingers clutching at the tender curve of Bertholdt's collarbones as he lets himself be taken over. Bertholdt's knee slides between Reiner's legs, and Reiner holds onto him with a fervent kiss, until Bertholdt pulls back, cooing, and leaves a tender peck on his forehead.

"My handsome boy," he murmurs against Reiner's skin.

Reiner breaks into a smile as Bertholdt kisses his hairline. "Bert..."

"My brave warrior," Bertholdt mutters. He pulls back, his hands still set on Reiner's face, and he stares at him, softly. "You know that I love you, don't you?"

With Bertholdt's gaze lingering on him, Reiner says nothing. He pushes up into another kiss, their lips coming together again, and it's just another moment before Bertholdt breaks away again. He drops onto one elbow, his hand laid across Reiner's chest, and he murmurs something soft as Reiner folds an arm around his shoulders, holding him close, breathing him in.

"You're going to be late," Bertholdt says a second later. "Don't you hear the reveille?"

"Just a little longer," Reiner whispers.

"You always say that."

"I always mean it."

Tufts of dark hair brush against Reiner's chin as Bertholdt lays his head down. He settles on Reiner's shoulder, fingers tickling along Reiner's ribcage, and he whispers, "We can't stay in bed forever." 

Reiner presses his cheek into Bertholdt's hair. "I know."

"You've got to go to work," Bertholdt says. He reaches out and grabs one of Reiner's hands, the one with the matching wedding band, and he lets Reiner fit their fingers together. "You've got to repay the great state of Marley for their generosity."

He feels Bertholdt smile against his shoulder, and he snorts. "You sound like my mother."

Bertholdt's hand twists out of his grasp as he sits upright, pinning Reiner's wrists to the bed with a grin. He swings a knee across Reiner's thighs to straddle him and leans down, their faces nearly touching. "I bet I kiss better."

Reiner hums against his lips. "I don't doubt it."

Bertholdt kisses him again, and again, for the hundredth time, the millionth time, as the pink waves of sunlight on the bedroom floor grow brighter, wider, until the whole room is glowing with the waking dawn and the impending day. The curtains rustle over the open window, the floating breeze drawing tingles across their bare skin as they kiss. Day is breaking, and when Bertholdt finally falls out of his arms again, back into the bed, lying side by side again, Reiner grabs his hand and kisses it, holding on desperately.

"I don't want to go," he whispers.

Bertholdt smiles. "I'll see you tonight."

"I know."

"Then go."

"I'll miss you," Reiner mutters. He kisses Bertholdt's thumb. "I'll think about you all day." 

"We'll do this all again tonight," Bertholdt says, brushing a hand through Reiner's hair. He draws one finger down his ear, then trails it down his neck until his hand comes to settle on Reiner's shoulder. "Come on, you can't be late. You have to take care of your family."

From the other side of the wall, Reiner hears the telltale sounds: tiny voices, tiny hands, tiny feet. Two children out of bed before their parents, giggling as they scamper through the halls and prepare for a morning ambush in bed. Their whispers carry in from the corridor, floating like the sweet sea breeze from the open window. The bed isn't nearly big enough for the four of them, but somehow, they'll make it work.

Reiner presses Bertholdt's knuckles to his lips. "I wish I could stay with you all day, with them."

Bertholdt hums, smiling in the sunrise. "They'll be here when you get back. Lara will be waiting for you to throw the ball with her."

"And Jonas will need help with his maths," Reiner finishes, murmuring. "I know."

"We'll all be here," Bertholdt whispers, "waiting for you."

The children's voices disappear just as they near the door. They giggle, reaching for the doorknob, and then they are only echoes, their laughter fading down the corridor as they chase each other away, bare feet pitter-pattering on the wooden floors. Reiner can see them running, their hands tracing invisible paths along the walls as they go. Blankets, wrapped snugly around their shoulders, trailing behind them like capes in the wind, vanishing around the corner of the white walls as the sun rises over the sea.

The sunrise moves again, the orange and pink fading into silver. The beams strike the bare walls, and a shadow begins to grow beneath the curtains, the telling of another long morning. It wavers with the incoming wind: a quiet darkness on the bedroom floor. Grey sheets shift over Reiner's legs as he sits upright, one hand sinking into the mattress, the other pushing back through his tired hair. The reveille calls. On the other side of the door, he can hear the world coming alive, beginning another day, another month, another year. His coat hangs where he left it last night, and he stares at it from across the empty room.

It is just like every other morning. One day, if he wishes hard enough, maybe it will be more than a dream.


End file.
